Painfully Boring

Choral music that is.  Never liked the stuff. Just could NOT abide sitting through choral concerts/presentations in school. It's not that I hated it—loathe is a more accurate adjective. On the whole the stuff is dull, spiritless and an immensely effective soporific. I'd respect it more if it was wretched enough to inspire flights of hatred -- like flights of fancy only, instead of being inspired to spout purple poetry, I'm roused to declaim obscenity rich rants.

So yeah, deaf now and hadn’t felt an absence.

Funnily though, with being aural free and all, I’m often told about/invited to/encouraged to attend choral concerts. Why? The Boston Gay Men’s Chorus  and Voices Rising, (the women’s equivalent) performances are ASL interpreted in their entirety.

You know, that’s tremendously beautiful and thoughtful to the nth degree, but I’m not paying a big ticket price to watch poetry ‘terped—take away the music and that’s what lyrics are. Right?

And, ya know, if I’m going to pay to see poetry, I want the poets who I’m wild about and balladry that totally trips my trigger. Like anything by Sherman Alexie, Prevert and Ginsberg to name just a few.
I’m no sonnet whore,  I want to select my own poets and poetry.

And I’m not a sign language beggar neither. Deafness doesn’t dictate my a&e choices. OK it really does to an extent. I won’t be experiencing Fela! and I won’t be taking in a Kronos Quartet concert (unless they’re doing something radically percussive) or the like. That’s a bit painful.

 Still though, if I can arsed to stay up late enough, I can take in shows at The Middle East. I can totally appreciate and enjoy the Kodo Drummers of Japan. And, boy howdy, deaf can dance! Check out the Chinese Deaf Dance Team-Thousand Hands of Buddah Performance.

There are exceptions to nearly every one of my dramatic pronouncements of course.

The formal, classical choral music that I totally dig:

Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana -- I never would have heard and fallen in love with this if not for John Boorman’s flick Excalibur.

Handel’s Messiah. Duh. Of course!